I, the Accused
Chapter 11
1
Lieutenant Seymour Gilbert hung up the phone. He turned to Carl Reese. "We need to call the commissioner. Since you know him better than I do, I would suggest you be the one to tell him what the inmates' demands are."
"I doubt if I can even talk the commissioner into calling the governor. Randall will never approve allowing all of the inmates to walk out of the prison, let alone asking the governor to do it."
"I know that, Carl. We still have to make the call. It will be up to the commissioner how we go forward to handle this," Gilbert said.
Reese knew he was right, they had to call the commissioner. What bothered him was he knew before he even made the phone call that the commissioner wouldn't even consider releasing the prisoners. Carl knew it just wasn't possible. He wasn't even sure that Commissioner Randall would bother to call the governor. He would already know what answer the governor would give. They needed to find another way to get Chief Ironside and Sergeant Brown out of the prison. It seemed the only way was going to be through negotiations. But then, how could you negotiate with a man who made outrageous demands you couldn't possibly meet, and refuse to budge? They were in an impossible position. Reese worried that Max Carter would make on his threat and kill Brown or Ironside.
How long would it take them to get through two steel doors? Right now, those doors were the only thing protecting the people inside the warden's office. If they broke through them, then all bets were off. What was even more frustrating was not knowing how much time they had. He had to assume they would be able to find the tools to get through the steel doors. It was only a matter of time. Again, the question was how much time?
It made no sense to stall any longer. He had to make that call to the commissioner. With Gilbert standing next to him, he removed his cell phone from his inside suit coat pocket. Checking his contacts, he pressed the icon for the commissioner's office. The line would ring into his secretary. Instead of receiving the customary ringtone, all Reese got was a busy signal. He hung the phone up.
"What's wrong?" Lieutenant Gilbert asked him.
"It's busy."
"How many lines are there into the commissioner's office?"
"Just two," Carl told him. "There's one line for the commissioner and another for his secretary."
"Assuming you dialed the number to his office which probably goes to the secretary, try his direct number."
Reese checked his contacts again. Randall's direct number was not listed among his contacts. "I don't have the commissioner's phone number."
"The line is probably busy anyway. Everybody and their brother and sister will be contacting the commissioner's office scared to death that the entire prison population is going to be released. I've already been told that the news is reporting the demands of the inmates. Try the radio and see if you can get patched directly into the commissioner's line."
Reese walked over to his car, opened the door and reached in for the handset. "This is Lieutenant Carl Reese. I need to be directly patched into Commissioner Randall's office. A moment later, the line was ringing.
Surprised that his direct number was open, Commissioner Dennis Randall was reluctant to pick it up. The last thing he wanted to do was to get tied up on the phone with a hysterical citizen. On the other hand, the call could be important.
"Commissioner Randall."
"Commissioner, it's Carl Reese."
"Carl, what in the blazes is going on over there? Have you heard from the inmates on their demands?"
"Yes, sir. They are demanding that all of the prisoners in the prison be allowed to leave."
"That's ridiculous! We can't do that. Carl, no matter how much we want to protect the chief, we are not turning loose the entire population of that prison. Tell Seymour that he is just going to have to negotiate and find out what it is they really want. Who's in charge inside the prison?"
"An inmate by the name of Max Carter."
Randall began typing information into his computer. He brought up the police file on Carter. He found exactly what he expected to find. The man was a cold-blooded killer. Negotiating with him wasn't going to be easy. Nevertheless, they had to convince him to back off on his demand. No matter Randall's feelings for Ironside, he knew they would never turn loose on the city of San Francisco, a prison full of hardened criminals.
"Lieutenant Gilbert tried several times to get Carter to name their real demands. No matter what he suggested, Carter insisted they only had the one demand, and there would be no negotiation regarding it."
"Carl, we can't do it," The commissioner said.
"I know that, and furthermore, I think Carter knows it too. Commissioner, what do you want us to do? Will you contact the governor?"
"Yes, I will be contacting him, but it won't be to get his permission to turn loose an entire prison population. I wouldn't insult his intelligence by asking him to. In the meantime, tell Seymour to try to get Carter to negotiate. We simply cannot meet his current demands.
2
The inmates were starting to roam the corridors of the prison. Mike Woods was far more concerned than Max Carter seemed to be. So far, they were able to keep them under control. How long was that going to last? They did not feel that anything was getting done. Nor were they happy they were not being given any say in what demands were to be made. Woods was beginning to think Carter really didn't care. All he was concerned about was getting out of the prison.
Woods wanted out of the prison as badly as Carter did. However, he didn't seem to care enough to placate the inmates until they were able to obtain their goal. If he didn't do something about it, they would start to mutiny against him, despite the respect they had for him. If he didn't appear to care about their wants and needs, they would turn on him quickly. The number one priority was to get Ironside out of that office. They needed him as a hostage for bargaining power. Those on the outside would never take them seriously as long as the detective was barricaded in the warden's office.
Woods went looking for Carter. He found him in the surveillance room. "Max, we need to talk."
Carter turned around to see Woods standing there. He would be so glad to see this idiot with a hole in his chest when they left the prison. All he did was whine. Carter could not stand a whiner. "Talk about what?"
"The guys are getting really restless. A lot of them are complaining that they haven't been allowed to discuss their demands. If you don't do something, they are going to rebel against you."
"We are going to be walking out of here very shortly. I don't give a damn what the rest of these guys want. You and I are leaving. From there, it's up to whoever takes over."
"We aren't going to get a chance to get out of here if you don't do something to calm these guys down. They are really irate."
He supposed Woods was right. He couldn't take a chance that they would rebel against him before he was able to get out of the prison. "All right, let's go talk to them. I'll let them list their demands. But for God's sake, what could they want more than what I am asking. I'm asking that they be allowed to walk out of this prison free."
"And you said that they would never grant that. If you know that, don't you think most of the men know?" Woods was beginning to wonder if Carter cared about anything besides walking out of the prison.
"Make an announcement over the system that all inmates report to the cafeteria for a briefing." That would at least get Woods out of his hair for the moment.
"Okay, now you're talking."
"I'm going to go and check on the progress with the guys who are trying to get through those steel doors. Then I will join you in the cafeteria." He couldn't wait to walk away from every inmate in the prison. As far as he was concerned, it was every man for himself. The only one he cared about was Max Carter.
He left the surveillance room and headed for the warden's office. He was stopped by several inmates whom he told to meet him in the cafeteria. He would be there shortly. What a bunch of idiots. He would be so happy to get rid of the whole lot of them.
Carter arrived at the warden's office. There were three inmates with crowbars working on the door. Carter just shook his head. How did these morons expect to get through a steel door with a crowbar?
"What the hell are you guys doing? Find a torch or something. You're never going to get in there with crowbars," Max growled.
"We have looked all over for torches. We haven't been able to find anything that would help us get into the office. This is all we could find, Max," one of the inmates said.
"Then we have to find another way to get Ironside out of that office. You're never going to open that door with a crowbar."
"Just how are we going to get the coward to come out of there. As long as he's in there, he knows he's safe. He's just not going to walk out of that office because we want him to."
"First of all, if you haven't noticed, he can't walk. Secondly, Ironside is no coward. Anyone who believes that, is an idiot. If you were in his place, you would be doing the same thing. He is not the only one he has to consider. There are other people in that office. He's going to try to protect them. Don't let your hatred of him cloud your thinking. We have to find a way to force him to come out. Thirdly, don't underestimate the man. He's dangerous regardless of the fact that he's in a wheelchair. I would think you would realize that since he's the one who arrested you and gathered the evidence to put you in here."
"What do you want us to do? Do you want us to keep trying to open the door with the crowbars, or have you got another idea?"
If the truth be told, Max could care less if Ironside ever came out of the office. He would be long gone and it would not be his problem. Until then, he'd have to pretend that he cared. "Where in the hell is Ross Howard? He's the key to getting Ironside out of that office. Find Howard, and Ironside will come out to protect him. In the meantime, keep working on the door the way you are." He didn't care if they wasted their time.
Carter left them and headed to the cafeteria where by now, most of the inmates would be gathered. As he walked into the room, inmates started shouting questions at him. He ignored them and climbed up on one of the tables.
"All right, quiet down and listen," he shouted over the noisy crowd. Once he had their full attention, the room quieted. "I know you are all anxious. We have made our demand. Unless they want the people in the warden's office and the guards killed, they will allow all of us to walk out of this prison. That way some of us will get away."
One of the inmates shouted over the rest of them. "They are never going to grant that. It would take an order from the governor. Does anybody in this room really believe he would order that we be allowed to walk out of here. It is a ridiculous demand! Why aren't we asking for something they will actually grant?"
Everybody started shouting at once. Some of the inmates were siding with Carter. Others were more realistic with what could be demanded. They continued to complain.
Max just wanted to get the hell away from all of them, And he would, soon. Until then, he would have to go along with them. "Everybody quiet down. One at a time. If there are other demands you want to make, let's hear them."
Carter spent the better half of an hour listening to the complaints and the demands of his fellow inmates. It just reinforced his desire to get out of the prison. Maybe he should have committed an act that would have put him in solitary confinement. He just couldn't stand listening to this bunch of whiners. He never complained about his sentence. He killed a man, he knew he deserved it. Furthermore, he never blamed Ironside for arresting him. Yet, all these men wanted to do was get their hands on the detective.
When they were finished, Carter promised them he would relay their concerns and demands to those in charge outside the prison. Unfortunately, Mike Woods joined him as he left the cafeteria.
"Are you going to make that call? Woods no longer trusted Carter. Before he left the prison, he wanted to make sure the men got what they wanted. He obviously cared more about them than Carter did. He decided he was going to follow Carter back to the surveillance room and listen in on the call.
Carter actually had no intention of making any further demands to the authorities. Now, he would have no choice. If he didn't do it, Woods would go back to the inmates and tell them. At that point, he would lose their respect and support. Not that he really cared, he just couldn't allow it to happen until he got out of the prison. So, he had no choice but to make another call and state their stupid demands.
When they arrived at the surveillance room, Carter ordered the inmate manning the station to put a call through to police headquarters and request they patch the call through to Lieutenant Gilbert.
A few minutes later, the lieutenant came on the line. "This is Lieutenant Gilbert."
"Gilbert, this is Carter. Unfortunately, the guys here in the prison have decided that you won't honor our demand. Therefore, when they get into the warden's office, everyone in that office will be killed with the exception of Burl Bricker. They have further demands since they don't believe you will allow them to leave the prison. They want better food. The food in this place is no more than slop. Total garbage. They want more time in the exercise yard. More equipment for working out. Half the guys in here never are able to get near it because there isn't enough work out equipment for the number of men in this prison. Also, lights out at 9:00 is unreasonable. They want that extended to midnight. They want a more clear-cut way to complain about guards who are abusive. Furthermore, if more than one inmate complains about an abusive guard, they want him fired. Cigarettes are to be provided for all inmates who want them. More up to date books need to be added to the library. They want to read the latest best sellers. There should be no more than two men per cell. Three and four makes it far too crowded. That is about it. Again, none of these demands are negotiable. Once again, in good faith, we are going to send out two guards. One of the guards, Lieutenant Reese, will recognize as Barry Corey. We will be releasing them within the hour. We will await your answer on our demands." Carter indicated to the inmate who put the call through, to terminate it.
He turned and looked at Mike Woods. "Follow me." When they were a distance away from the surveillance room, he asked, "Do you have Joey Milner's uniform?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Go put it on and meet me at the front gate. It's time we get the hell out of here."
Woods left him immediately. Carter walked down the corridors toward the gate. Since no one would be leading them out, he had to make it clear to the inmates guarding the gate that the two 'guards' would be coming to them without an escort. When that mission was completed, he went back to the room where he hid Barry Corey's uniform. He stripped down and put it on. So far, everything was going as planned. Within the hour, he would be a free man.
3
Dennis Randall knew he had to call the governor, but wasn't looking forward to it. He wasn't about to ask the governor to release all the inmates in the prison. The governor would think he was crazy. Then again, Randall was beginning to wonder if he wasn't. After all, he was still in the commissioner's position, when he had enough money to retire. His wife, Patricia, had been nagging at him for some time to retire. The problem was, Randall really didn't want to. He liked his job, and he knew he was good at it. Still, it was times like these when he wondered why he did.
The intercom on the phone sounded. Randall pushed the button and responded, "Yes, Betsy."
"Lieutenant Gilbert is on line one for you. He said it is important that he speaks to you immediately."
"Put him through," Randall ordered. When the lieutenant came on the line, Randall asked, "What's going on, Seymour. Have you been able to convince Max Carter to negotiate something that at least resembles reasonable?"
"Actually, Commissioner, they weren't answering my calls, but Carter contacted me. The inmates don't believe that we are going to allow them to walk out of the prison."
"You don't say. It doesn't take a genius to come to that conclusion. Now, what do they want?"
Lieutenant Gilbert read off a list of their demands. "Some of these, I think we will be able to accommodate them. There are others on there the city probably will not be willing to grant."
"For cripe sake, the inmates are the ones who cook the food. If they can't cook, why don't they put somebody in there that can. As far as the cigarettes, I'm not sure the city is going to be willing to provide every inmate in that prison with cigarettes. That is something that will have to be decided on by them. The warden is the one that sets the time for lights out. I am certain we can get him to change that, but probably not to midnight. Again, the exercise equipment is totally up to the city council. Longer time in the exercise yard is up to the warden. That is probably negotiable. We can try and get the library to provide the books. The prison is so overcrowded I don't see how we can possibly give in to only two men per cell. Most of the cells have four inmates in them. Very few have only two. We just have no place to put the men if we only allow two per cell. I am afraid that one is a no-go. Take it back to them and see if you can negotiate. Tell them we'll work on those ones that need approval with the city council. Do you have any word on Chief Ironside?"
"Since they aren't trying to use him as a bargaining chip, I have to believe they have been unable to get past those steel doors," Lieutenant Gilbert answered.
"Let's just hope that it stays that way. Anything else?"
"No, sir, that's it."
"All right, Seymour, see what you can do." Randall hung up the phone. He pressed the intercom. "Betsy, get me the governor on the phone."
"Yes, Commissioner."
When the line connected, Governor Steven Moran growled, "Dennis, what the hell is going on over there? How come you haven't updated me? I have been calling constantly, and have not been able to get through."
"The lines are tied up. I swear everybody in San Francisco is calling this office. Somehow, they got wind of the first demand the inmates were making."
"Which is?"
"They wanted to open the doors and allow all inmates in the prison to walk out."
"That's ludicrous! We can't do that."
"I am well aware of that. Fortunately, somebody convinced Max Carter that we wouldn't do it, and I just got a second list of demands."
"Dennis, I don't like negotiating with murderers. My suggestion would be to allow the National Guard to storm the prison. If inmates get killed in the process, well they are responsible."
"I don't think that's a good idea. We have guards there. Bob Ironside is there, along with the warden, his secretary, and Sergeant Ed Brown."
"I thought they were behind two steel doors. That's what you told me when I spoke to you last."
Randall confirmed that they were. "The problem is they are actively trying to get through those doors. I don't have to tell you what will happen if they are able to take Bob hostage."
"All the more reason to send in the National Guard. He is too valuable to the state of California to allow anything to happen to him. Dennis, I am ordering you to tell Max Carter, if they do not surrender the prison by 6:00 this evening, we will send in the National Guard."
"I advise against that, but if you're going to do it, I don't think they should be told that we are going to storm the place. It would put the boys in the National Guard at risk. Not to mention, they will probably kill the prison guards."
"Well what do you want to do? Do you want to sit around and wait until they get past those steel doors? If they get a hold of Ironside, then we will have an even bigger problem. This is an order, Dennis, give them until 6:00 to surrender."
Randall had no intention of being responsible for storming the prison. If the governor wanted it done, he was going to have to order it himself. "I'm sorry Governor, I won't do that. If you want to order it, you will have to do it yourself. You're advocating what will surely be a bloodbath."
"I didn't give you a choice. I gave you an order."
"And you are the Commander-in-Chief of the National Guard. They don't take orders from the Police Commissioner. As I stated, you will have to give the order."
The damn coward, the governor thought! He couldn't believe the city council would put such a man in charge of the police department. Quite frankly, he didn't understand why they didn't fire Dennis Randall and promote Robert Ironside to Police Commissioner. If he was overseeing this situation, it would have already been resolved.
"All right, since you won't do your job, I'll do it for you. I'll contact Captain Delong and give him the order." He slammed the phone down.
Better you than me, Randall thought.
4
Robert Ironside was becoming increasingly restless. It was bad enough they were stuck inside a prison with a riot going on. It was even worse, that they had no way of knowing what was happening. They were on able to communicate, not only with the authorities outside the prison, but with the prison inmates' leader. In other words, the detective had no idea what was happening. Had they made their demands? If they had, were they reasonable enough that they could be granted? He felt utterly helpless. About the only thing that was going their way was that they were protected behind two steel doors. He couldn't help but wonder how long that would last.
Burl Bricker stared at Ironside. He couldn't be enjoying himself more even if he was with his rioting inmates. To see Ironside so utterly helpless, was completely satisfying.
"What's the matter, Chief? You're not used to taking orders from other people? How long will it be before they get through those doors? That's what you're thinking, isn't it?" Bricker started laughing. "You really don't look so tough now!"
Sergeant Brown had about all he was going to take from Bricker. "If you don't shut up, I am going to use the electrical tape to gag you. I don't know what you are so happy about. If they get through that door, you're going to be the first one shot."
"Ed!" Ironside called out. Bricker was getting to his sergeant.
He didn't have to say anymore as Sergeant Brown knew exactly what his chief was thinking. He knew better than to allow Bricker to get under his skin, but the waiting around, and the inability to do anything about it was getting to him.
Ironside couldn't believe that there wasn't any way to get a message to the outside. There had to be some way, some form of communication they could use. He wheeled over to the warden. "Other than the surveillance room, are there any phones anywhere in the entire prison that are not controlled in that room?"
"Not one, Robert. Every phone in the prison can be shut off in the surveillance room," the warden answered.
The warden's secretary, Tracy Abbott squinted her eyes. It seemed to her that the warden's statement wasn't correct. She couldn't quite remember why, but for some reason, she didn't believe that all the phones were controlled in the surveillance room. Something in the back of her mind told her it simply wasn't true.
"Warden, I don't think that is correct."
Ironside turned his attention immediately to the warden's secretary. "Please explain, Miss Abbott."
"I remember Philip Brody calling this office asking for something. I don't remember what it was, but I remember asking him where to deliver it to. He told me he was at the other side of the prison on a phone that wasn't monitored by the surveillance room."
"I am not aware of any phone that cannot be monitored by the surveillance room," the warden said.
"Did he say exactly where this phone is located?" Ed Brown asked.
"I believe it is down the corridor where Ross Howard is located. It's that room that has the gold plate on it, but no wording."
Ironside turned to the warden. "Do you know which room she is talking about?"
"Yes, I do. It is an extremely small storage room. An individual literally has to walk in and back out, it's so small. I really don't understand why it was built in that manner."
"Are you sure that it is not monitored by the surveillance room?" Sergeant Brown asked.
"I have no personal knowledge, of course. I only know what Philip Brody said."
Ed didn't like it. "Chief, I don't think we can trust this information. Philip Brody is responsible for two murders. How do we know this information is accurate? Besides, we can't get to it from here. So even if it's true, it is pretty much useless information."
"No, it isn't, Ed. Ross Howard is in a room just down that corridor. If he could get to that phone, he could stop Max Carter from getting out of this prison."
"I don't like it, Chief. If the inmates get a hold of Ross Howard, they are going to use him against you. They're going to demand you come out of this office or they'll kill him. I know you, you will never allow them to kill him."
"I'm not going to allow Max Carter to walk out of here. That would be turning a murderer loose on society. I am pledged to protect the public. Ed, that is a pledge I take seriously. If we can stop him, we must try."
"This is crazy. There's no guarantee Howard can get down to that phone without being seen. We don't even know if he would be willing to do it. He would be putting himself in jeopardy. He only thinks of himself. He's too selfish to care that Carter gets out of this prison. He's not going to jeopardize himself."
"There's only one way to find out whether that is true or not," Ironside said. "Contact Ross Howard on the intercom."
5
Mike Woods met Max Carter near the front entrance of the prison. Standing back a few feet, Carter stopped their forward motion. "All right, now remember, act like you have every right to walk out of the prison. Just remember, you are no longer Mike Woods, your name is Joey Milner. The more natural you act, the better the chance that we get away with this."
"I understand, Max, but I will have to admit that I am a bit nervous."
"You cannot show nervousness when you get out there. Lieutenant Reese will spot it a mile away. He's an excellent cop. So, just calm down and act natural."
Woods took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm ready."
Carter slapped him on the back. "Atta boy! Let's get the hell out of here."
The two men walk toward the door that would lead them out of the prison. Carter played the scene over and over in his mind. If it went as he planned, Mike Woods would soon be dead, and he would be free to live his life on the outside. As soon as he could, he was going to head for Mexico. He couldn't stay in the United States. Ironside would never quit looking for him. The cop was just talented enough to locate him.
There were two armed inmates at the gate. They had been given word by Max Carter that Barry Corey and Joey Milner would be allowed to leave the prison. They found it hard to believe that Carter wouldn't escort them. Nevertheless, they trusted Max Carter, so they didn't attempt to stop the two from leaving the prison. Outside the prison was a huge parking lot. It was full of National guardsmen, San Francisco police officers, as well as a SWAT team. Carter glanced at Woods. The man was sweating and was exhibiting nervousness. Actually, he had been hoping for exactly that. When he carried out his plan, it would only add to the police suspicions.
He looked out over the large group of law enforcement that surrounded the prison. When they got close enough to them, Carter pointed at Woods, and yelled, "He's got a gun! He's not a guard!"
Mike Woods responded exactly as Carter had been hoping. As the police rushed forward pointing guns at him, he pulled the gun out and pointed it at the police officers. He fired the gun at the closest officer, hitting him in his bulletproof vest. A spray of gunfire hit Woods several times. He fell to the pavement.
Carter glanced down at his fellow inmate. It couldn't have turned out better. Woods was hit in the chest several times by the police. His glassed over eyes stared forward. The man was dead. It happened exactly as Carter planned. The police would soon find out he was not Joey Milner, but Mike Woods.
They rushed over to Max Carter. He recognized Lieutenant Carl Reese. One of the officers pulled out his handcuffs.
"My name is Barry Corey," Carter told the officer. "I am a guard in the prison."
"I don't care who you say you are. We'll just make sure," the officer told him.
"It's all right, he is who he says he is," Carl Reese told him. "Put your handcuffs away." He reached out and shook Carter's hand. "Are you all right, Barry?"
Carter knew exactly how his brother would have responded. He was always calm and soft spoken. "I'm okay, Carl. It was a bit nerve-wracking, but you know how it is. You have to keep your cool under these circumstances."
Reese smiled. "You always were cool as a cucumber. Come on, we have to debrief you. We're going to need all the information you can give us on what is going on in there."
"Of course, I'll do whatever I can to help out." Carter followed Reese who led him to Captain Gary DeLong, the man in charge of the entire operation. Carter would answer their questions, and then he would leave the scene, never to be heard from again.